


Crash Trickster Racing

by winsister91



Category: Supernatural, crash bandicoot
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fluff, Implied Smut, video game references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 02:34:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winsister91/pseuds/winsister91
Summary: The angelic master of mischief interrupts a game night that’s getting steamy…





	Crash Trickster Racing

“Dean Winchester,” you laugh in triumph, “You  _suck_!”

You throw the Playstation controller to the floor, doing a ridiculous victory dance. The result now was 12-1, in your favor. The only reason he won that one race in  _Crash Team Racing_  was because he started it without you while you went to grab a drink.

“You are inhumanely good at this stupid game,” Dean sulks, throwing his own controller down and folding his arms, “If it was a real race, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Whatever,” you shrug, sticking your tongue out and shaking your butt in a tease as you turn, “Victory beer!”

You skip to the kitchen, grinning like a child. As you go to open the fridge, Dean’s hand forces it closed again. He swiftly takes you in his arms, picking you up onto the counter and biting down your neck. You giggle as tingles wash over you, throwing your head back to grant him access.

“Distract me all you want,” you gasp as he moves around to the other side of your neck, “You still  _suck_ at Crash.”

“Maybe,” he growls, taking you to a higher place with a deep kiss on your collarbone, “But I know what I  _am_  good at.”

“Thank god you do,” you exhale before his lips forcefully clash into yours, instantly allowing his hungry tongue to do battle with your own.

He lifts you onto his hips, you wrap your legs around him and the tongue battle continues. You rake your hands through his hair, your core fluttering with excitement when those beautiful olive eyes of his pierce lustfully into yours. He carries you through the room and into the corridor leading to his bedroom. You giggle, pulling your t-shirt up and over your head on the way. He hums at the sight of you, kicking his door open and bringing you inside.

“What the fuck?” he stops and freezes. The sounds of numerous engines rumbling come to your ears and confused isn’t even the word. You look around, this was most definitely not Dean’s room. It was…outside? Pixelated?

“Okaay?” you jump down from his hips, looking around. You’re at the start line of a race track in a blocky cartoon world? It looks like the Coco Park track…it  _is_ Coco Park. Perfect in every detail. There’s a flash of white light and suddenly you’re in a racing kart. You immediately try to pull yourself out, but some invisible force is holding you there.

“Dean what’s going on!?” your shriek.

Dean is in the kart next to you, also struggling for freedom, he curses under his breath.  
  
“Goddammit Gabriel where are you!?” he shouts viciously.

“Oh no…” you groan, rolling your eyes.

“Now is that  _any_  way to greet a buddy?” that familiar chirpy voice comes. Gabriel melts into view, laying on the flat rectangular texture of grass at the side of the road, “I’ve always thought you two were such a cute couple, but man it gets monotonous. A playful argument, sex, self-deprecation, sex, get drunk,  _sex_. The result is always the same!”

You and Dean share a worried glance.

“You’ve been  _watching_ us?” Dean shakes his head in disbelief.

“Ew!” you shout.

“Who needs soap opera’s when the Winchesters exist? But its rapidly declining into a porno” he chuckles, snapping his fingers and appearing in a third kart between you both, “Now come on, this is  _fun!_ She says he sucks at Crash, he says he could win a real race, let’s combine the two!”  
  
“Could I have some  _dignity_ please first!?” you cross your arms, remembering you are topless, only a bra and pants on show.

The angel tuts and with a wave of his hand, your t-shirt appears back on you, “It’s game time,” he grins eagerly.

The unforgettable sound of the air horn count down echoes in the air, you can see the in-game lights hovering above you. You get your game face on, thinking,  _Fine! Whatever! I’m gonna kick your asses._

The last siren blares and your foot is pressed firmly down on the gas pedal. The kart shoots forward, much faster than you expected. You squeal in terror as you crash into one of the item crates, the blocky shards of wood flying over you. This moment makes you realize the game’s hud is in your eyesight like it’s imprinted on your iris. You see your lap time ticking away in the top corner of your sight, and a mini-map of the track in a bottom corner.  _This is insane and awesome_. A box in the top center of your vision is flicking through pictures of the in-game weapons, stopping on the missile. You grin mischievously before worry hits you. You can’t use a freaking missile! You’ll kill them!

While your mind had wandered, you realize you’re making a beeline for a red bottle, left on the track by Gabriel. You jerk on the wheel hard to try and avoid it, but it’s too late. You crash into it, sending the kart into a spin and you scream hysterically. Your vision becomes blurry and your car a stuttering slow mess as it clumsily bobs along with a black rain cloud following and raining on to you.

“Shit!” you shout in frustration, bashing at the gas pedal, but it’s fruitless while the bottle’s effect is in play.

“Oh yea, feel free to use the weapons!” Gabriel’s voice echoes omnipotently in the air, “They’ll not  _really_ hurt you!”

The cloud vanishes and you shoot forward again. Now you’re determined.

You can hear Dean laughing and clearly enjoying the ride, turning back to you and mocking while you try to catch up. You ignore him, focusing on the damned archangel further ahead. You spot a huge red button in the middle of the steering wheel, the angel in your line of sight and you slam it. The missile blasts out of the front of your kart and your grin returns. You watch in glee as it soars away into the distance. Then your face drops as the explosive turns and hones in on Dean.

“Uh oh,” you mumble, remembering these things are designed to aim at the person directly in front of you in the standings.

The rocket explodes into Dean’s car sending him flying in the air in a cartoonish fashion. You hear him cursing you as you speed past.

“Bitch!!!!”

“Sorry not sorry!” you squeak sheepishly.

With Dean now falling far behind, it’s a full-on battle for first place between you and Gabriel. Damn, he’s good. You question as to whether he’s tweaked things, being in control over this world he’s created after all. His car is way faster than yours. You can barely keep up using all the tricks in the book, grinding around corners and hitting your boost in a specific timing. Hiding TNT boxes behind the item crates for when another lap comes around. You fire numerous cannons at him, but he frequently swerves away or conveniently has a shield every time one does hit.

“Oh come on!!!” you scream, gamer rage coursing through you as he dodges another one of your traps, “This is bullshit!!!”

You hear another familiar noise and you sit wide-eyed.  _Oh no_. It’s electrical noise, sounding like waves, you turn and see what you dread. A huge intimidating blue ball of electricity flying through the air, its aim to hit everyone in its path. You can see Dean with an evil grin behind it, clearly the culprit as it’s an item only granted to those in last place. There’s no outrunning it, you have no shield in your possession. You brace yourself.

You squeal as it passes over you and your car is flung into the air. Holding on for dear life, you breathe a sigh of relief after spinning in the air and finally landing back on the ground, dazed. Gabriel falls victim to it too, a wail coming from his kart in front of you.

You can hear Dean laughing as he speeds past you both, crossing the finish line and becoming enveloped in a flood of confetti.

“Well done  _you_ ,” you grumble as you and Gabriel cross the line with glum faces. You were so pissed at coming last.

“I think it’s safe to say I am the ultimate  _champ_  at this now?” Dean pokes his tongue out, folding his arms smugly.

“Bite me,” you hiss, “You got lucky with the stupid OP weapon.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, blowing you a kiss in a mock fashion which makes you wanna go over there and part kill him, part ravage him.

“Oh, guys come on now!” Gabriel raises his hand in disbelief, “The sexual tension in the air is just…so obvious plot-wise!”

“The winner of your god damn race…” Dean starts calmly before ordering, “says, put us back in our god damn room right now!”

Gabriel rolls his eyes, “Fine, this isn’t the last you’ll hear from me,” with a snap of his fingers, you’re back at the bunker, sat on the floor of the bedroom. Gabriel is nowhere in sight.

“Rematch!” you squeal, jumping to your feet and marching for the door.

“Now just wait,” Dean chuckles, stepping in front of you and pulling you into a tight embrace, “…where were we first?”

In a moment of de ja vu, you find yourself being hoisted back onto Dean’s hips, violently pulling off your t-shirt.

“Really?” Gabriel groans, sat in a place unknown watching a huge TV screen where he watches people’s lives for entertainment, “There’s more sex here than in  _Game of Thrones_ …”  
  
He tuts, changing the channel with a fistful of popcorn.

**Author's Note:**

> I hosted a challenge on my Tumblr for people to write fics where Gabe messes with the boys.
> 
> This was my contribution.
> 
> I'm sorry.


End file.
